


Matters of Love and State

by PrincessofAragon212



Category: The Tudors
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-07-16 08:16:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16082138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessofAragon212/pseuds/PrincessofAragon212
Summary: Katherine of Aragon is humiliated and in despair upon the birth of her husband's bastard son, Henry Fitzroy. She withdraws from court life only to find out that she is pregnant and gives birth to a son in the following months. However, this time the Queen, taking her friend's advice, is going to focus more on herself, which her husband, Henry does not like. The King is supposed to have it all, but what about when the Queen has other wishes? And what of Thomas Boleyn and his desire for his family's advancement? He has two daughters and is willing to do anything for power as are several others at the King's court. How will the King and Queen handle this?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone. I do apologize for scrapping the last story, but I was not happy and decided to start over from scratch. And I think this story will make more sense, if Katherine is secure at least in the fact that she has borne her husband a son, even if she is annoyed with her husband and focusing more on herself. And again, she will be portrayed by Lotte Verbeek in this story and I have changed her year of birth from 1485 to 1489.

Katherine entered the great hall, her blue eyes blazing as her husband the King and the court celebrated the birth of his bastard son. She was dressed finely as befitted her station in a gown of silver with rich pearls embedded along the bodice of her gown. Her hair was swept up and hidden by a silver veil with a lacing along its edges. She could hear the echoes of the fireworks outside the palace that boomed over London in celebration of the King's bastard son.

"Her majesty the Queen!" The herald announced, drawing the attention of the crowd and the King as she walked into the great hall. Katherine stopped and looked at her husband before dipping into a graceful curtsey and holding her hand out. A servant gave her a goblet filled with mulberry wine and she held it up in toast to her husband.

Henry met her gaze and held his goblet up to her, and she drunk from her goblet before handing it over to a servant. She turned around and walked out. She was done here.

Her ladies followed, but she sent them away so she could weep. How dare he? The humiliation! She tried to keep her composure, but she could not hold her tears at bay. A sob escaped her throat and she covered her mouth. She caught sight of herself in the looking glass and felt a wave of repulsion. Her body was nothing more than a wreck, after six pregnancies and only two of them brought living into the world, though God had called away her precious son. She had just lost another child towards the end of the previous year and now this?

She took an embroidered piece of cloth and dabbed at her face. She had sacrificed so much and gained so little, and though she knew a woman was fit to rule, her husband clearly did not. And now this? He dared to celebrate the birth of his bastard as if he was the legitimate issue of their union? And with that Blount woman of all people. Elizabeth Blount who had listened as Katherine had poured her heart out to her, all the while she had been with her husband at the same time. Katherine would not endure this. She would withdraw from the court and nurse her sore wounds that her husband, the man she had loved, had inflicted upon her.

Katherine was set to leave the palace and was accompanied by her ladies, when she heard a distinct "My lady." She stopped and turned to see Elizabeth Blount in a slight curtsey. One might argue that the woman had just given birth, but Katherine knew disrespect when she saw it. This woman…no, she was beneath her. She turned away and kept walking forward. Her husband's mistress did not deserve to take residence in her thoughts any further.

Katherine spent most of her days weeping and praying, asking why God did not grant her a son? She had never felt so low in her life, and yet here she was. That particular day, Katherine did not even bother to raise herself from her bedchamber, and was thus surprised when her oldest and dearest friend, María de Salinas, now Lady Willoughby had appeared.

"María? What are you doing here? You have just given birth!" The Queen protested, rising into a sitting position. She didn't bother wiping her tear strained eyes. What was the use in that?

"I could ask the same of you Catalina, this is not like you," Maria said, her face soft, but her eyes alit with fire.

"Then you have heard of my newest humiliation?" The Queen choked out bitterly. She felt like crying once again, but held herself together, if only because her friend was here.

"The birth of the Fitzroy bastard? Indeed," María retorted, sitting next to her. "And I wonder, why has this low born bastard, driven away the Queen of England, and the daughter of the Catholic Monarchs?" Katherine felt the reproach in her words, but knew them to be true even if they stung her. Could she not have comfort?

"You love your husband too much, and this is where your fault lies," María said, grasping her hand and clenching it. Katherine stared at her in confusion. What did she mean? For was it not the duty of every good Christian woman to love her husband? And Katherine did resolve to be a good Christian woman.

"It's not equal Katherine, the love you bear for him is greater than the love he bears for you. And that is why you hurt so much." María paused, a frown on her face. "Or perhaps I should say, you are more invested in him than needs be. Perhaps you should love your husband, but know that he is not the end of all things."

Katherine recoiled at her words, shocked etched across her face. Was it true? Had she been that way with Henry? Katherine had vowed to never be like her sister Juana, who had been obsessed beyond reason with her husband, the scoundrel Philip the Handsome. But perhaps even though Katherine had not been obsessive, it was as María claimed: she loved Henry more than he loved her and why was that acceptable?

She looked at her friend, who gave a bitter smile.

"Invest in yourself Catalina. Your worth is priceless and you exist outside of that man. You have a country that loves you, a daughter to tend to, and friends whom love you. Love yourself enough, so that even though it will never please you that the man you love violates his marriage vows continuously, you can endure it as many queens and women have done before you," Maria continued, and Katherine allowed her words to seep in. Her mother had loved her father yet hated his infidelities and had to endure them. She thought again of her sister, Juana and shuddered. Lord forbid, that she should ever be reduced to such a state!

She rose to her feet shakily and stopped in front of her looking glass and felt a wave of repulsion. She had grown fat and heavy and at her short height, it was not a good look. But then when had that mattered when she was trying to bear a son for her husband and kingdom? Katherine had once taken pride in her appearance, where had it gone? She let out a long shaky sigh and turned back to María who looked at her expectedly.

"You are right María," Katherine admitted, though it pained her to face these truths. She could not wallow in lies and deception. She had to see her reality and deal with it.

She was the daughter of the Catholic Monarchs, and Infanta of Castile, Aragon, and León. She was a descendent of Katherine of Lancaster and she deserved better. Henry had long clouded her thoughts, but clearly it was not the same for him. She loved him and this is how he responded to her love? She looked at her reflection once more. What she had gained, she could surely lose could she not? And why should she not enjoy herself as her husband did? She would never break her marriage vows, and love him she still did, but why should life's pleasure be denied to her? She was the Queen of England, a mother and a wife, but surely there should be time for herself.

While she was away, Katherine had discovered to her surprise that she was pregnant with another child and due to give birth within several months. She had been surprised at the news and had sent word to her husband, so that he should know. Katherine remained away from court in the care of her ladies, and following Maria's advice, she began to focus on herself until December 23, 1519, God granted her and the kingdom of England their long awaited desire, that of a healthy wailing boy who was named Edward, after the King's famous grandfather, Edward IV of England.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are in the year of 1520, 11 years into Henry's reign and his marriage with Katherine. I've tweaked with the events of the show, such as in episode 1, to make them more accurate, or at least where they make more sense to me.

Katherine decided to return to court in May during the following year. After the birth of her son, Prince Edward, his christening was held, in which her sister in law, the Dowager Queen of France stood as godmother, with that snake Wolsey as godfather. She had quarreled with her husband over it, but she had lost that particular battle. While she was away from court, she had taken up hawking and hunting and slowly but surely, she found herself shedding the weight she had gained over the years. This pleased her immensely, and she was glad that she had picked up her old habits, as in her earlier days she had hunted and went hawking on more than one ocassion. Katherine had changed her eating habits as well, taken smaller portions at meals, and eating more of the salads from her home. And when she could, she would order in various fruits and vegetables to sate her appetite. The Queen spent time with her baby, tending to him and making sure he was at peace in the royal household the King had set up for him. Katherine had taken the time to appoint lady Margaret Pole as the governess of her daughter, while Henry had appointed lady Margaret Bryan as the governess of their son.

With the birth of a royal son, who now lived longer than Prince Henry did, the position of her husband's bastard had weakened considerably. He was no longer a threat to her daughter Mary, and while Katherine couldn't begrudge her husband caring for his child, Henry Fitzroy would know his place in the world.

The Queen also visited and tended to Mary, who was growing into a young child of 4 years old. She was precocious and intelligent and Katherine knew that she would be a great queen one day. Though God forbid it be some Valois prince, no she would much prefer that her daughter wed a Spanish infante or a a Portugues Infante. It was only good and proper.

The Queen had also decided that upon her return to court, a new set of ladies in waiting were needed, because Wolsey had dismissed her Spanish ladies on false charges of them being spies for her nephew. Just the thought of that wretched cardinal made her seethe with fury. Her good friend María de Salinas who had recovered from the birth of her daughter, Catherine the previous year, would join her household once more as her principle lady in waiting, and she would send out word on Katherine's behalf. Wolsey would do well to stay out of the matters of her household, for she was in no mood to be trifled with. He too would come to learn his place as well.

Katherine also ordered new fabrics for clothing such as silk, damask, satin, taffeta, and linen. She especially loved colors such as black, purple, and crimson. She also had her old gowns taken in and she sent some of the cloth to her children's household, for smocks and dresses to be made for them as well as toys to occupy her daughter Mary.

"Your majesty, the litter is ready," lady Jane Howard informed her, with a small curtsey. Katherine glanced at her, before nodding and leaving her rooms and the palace to where the royal litter awaited her outside. It was a magnificent transport, held by four great black destriers, and decorated with black and purple curtains, with the symbol of her authority, the royal pomegranate, embroidered on both sides. She pushed the curtains back and stepped inside and sat down. María joined her and sat across from her. Along the journey, they would both work on their embroidery and Katherine knew she was behind in making some of her husband's shirts, and had resolved to have some ready for him upon her return.

"A summit in France," Katherine began, a frown upon her face. No doubt this was due to Wolsey's influence. Anyone with sense knew that he favored an alliance with the French. Katherine suspected it went further than that, but Henry was too stubborn to listen to her in that regard.

"A meeting between the Kings of England and France, nothing more we should hope. I've heard nothing of any marriage alliances," María assured her, but the Queen had her doubts. Perhaps not for Edward as he was too young, but Mary was close in age to some of the Valois princes. She felt her anger rear up at the thought but pushed it back down.

"If Henry did, he did it without consulting me María, he gave my daughter away to the Dauphin or some other Valois prince without my input as her mother." This time, she could not keep the anger from showing itself on her face and Maria gave her a sympathetic look. Katherine found her composure and let out a long sigh.

"I will deal with it, what about your inquiries into new ladies?" The Queen asked, looking out the litter at the passing scenery of green forests and hills with tiny villages every now and then.

"Sir Nicholas Carew has an unmarried sister, Anne Carew," María said, and Katherine nodded. She knew of Sir Nicholas Carew, a popular fellow in her husband's inner circle. Wolsey did not like his influence and had managed to send him from court two years ago.

"Who else?"

"Well there is the lady Maud Parr, who desires a position in your household," María said after some thought.

"To think out of my ladies, I can only trust you, lady Pole, who is now my daughter's governess, lady Isabel, and the lady Howard." The Queen wanted to roll her eyes but refrained from doing so. She noticed the look on her friend's face.

"What is it?"

"The lady Howard, I have heard rumor…." María began, but she hesitated and Katherine waved her hand for to continue.

"Tell me."

"His majesty was to visit your bedchambers, but you were in prayer, so he took up with lady Howard instead," María finished, and Katherine felt like she could cry if it wasn't for the fact she had promised that she would not let herself be reduced to such a state again. Cold fury settled in her belly instead.

"I see, my husband does not often visit my bed, and on such occasion when I had asked, one of my ladies says to herself that she should take my place." She let out a deep sigh. Another betrayal from her husband, and another lady who could not be trusted. "And Henry, that man!" Katherine bit out and fell into silence once more and picked up her embroidery. She knew that several parishes in London where in need of altar cloths, so she would focus on those. Henry could wait a very long time on his shirts as far as she was concerned.

Meanwhile the King and his court were preparing for the summit that was to be held in Calais in June. Henry had ordered new cloths, hose, doublets, hats, coats, and jewels, all to make sure he would no doubt cut an impressive figure. Henry prided himself on being the most handsome and athletic out of the powerful monarchs of Europe and was thus eager to see what this Francis looked like.

"Is he tall?" He asked his ambassador to the French court, Sir Thomas Boleyn.

"Indeed, about six feet and six inches." Sir Thomas Boleyn eyed the chess set between the two of them. Henry frowned, that was a good deal three inches more than his own height of six feet and three inches.

"Does he have calves like mine?"

"Majesty, no one has calves like yours," Boleyn assured him as he moved his bishop along the board. Henry eyed the move before continuing:

"Is he handsome?"

"Some might say so, he certainly thinks so himself," Boleyn said with a bit of a smirk. Henry chuckled and moved his queen to take Boleyn's bishop with ease.

"Is he vain?"

"Majesty, he's French!" With this, both men let out full blown laughs and Henry found himself appeased somewhat. He made a final move and found his efforts rewarded.

"Checkmate," he said, triumphantly, when a groom appeared in the doorway.

"Your majesty, the Queen has arrived," he said, and the King raised his eyebrows and rose to his feet. It was about time too, he grumbled inwardly. He knew she had been upset since the birth of his bastard Fitzroy, and no doubt he would have demanded her return, but after she had given birth to their son (finally), he had allowed her this one indulgence.

"I will sup with her," Henry said, more to himself as he dismissed Boleyn.

"Make the preparations for our arrival in France, I am putting you in charge," he said, before leaving to find his wife. His groom had gone ahead and sent word, and within the hour Henry was seated at the table, impatiently waiting for his wife.

"Her majesty, the Queen!" The servant announced, when the Queen entered the room, and the surrounding servants and attendants sank into bows or curtseys. Henry rose, utterly stunned by the woman who had walked into the room. The Queen absolutely looked quite the picture of loveliness in a mature and regal way. She had lost the excess weight from her many pregnancies, and while she was not as thins as she was when she first came to England, she had a mature womanly figure. The tiniest bit of rouge painted her lips, but her face was otherwise bare. Her rich auburn hair was brushed out till it fell in soft red burnished waves down to her hips. She wore a gown of royal purple with an extravagantly decorated bodice with hints of red in it and a ruby brooch pinned at the top of it. Over it, she wore an over gown of soft purple velvet and wore a simple diadem of pearls and diamonds in her hair.

"Katherine," Henry said, finding himself at a loss for words as she curtseyed before they took their seats. Sir Williams Compton handed over a great dish of venison, meat pies, grapes, strawberries, and a bit of salad, something that Henry didn't particularly, like, but Katherine did. They were served wine to wash it down with as well as bread fresh from the kitchens.

"You look well Madam," Henry said, as he picked up a piece of venison. Katherine looked up at him and was about to say something when lady Howard placed her plate in front of her. He caught the flash of rage on his wife's face, and Henry knew then she had learned of his dalliance with the lady Howard. Loose tongues and gossiping courtiers was something that Henry could not abide. One day, he would make such a fearsome example of the person who went to his wife with tales of his private affairs.

"I am better than I have been in previous years," Katherine said, as she picked up a few grapes.

"How is our daughter?" Henry said, it had been some time since he had seen his little pearl and it was something he had resolved to fix.

"She is well. Her tutors praise her exceptional talents," The Queen said, taking a sip from her cup. "You should be proud of her Henry." She gave him a pointed look and the King felt the slight rebuke in her words.

"I am," he retorted. "You know I am, Katherine." He touched her hand. "Mary is the pearl of my world." The Queen stared at him, and smiled before turning back to the food.

"You have not answered my nephew's letters," she began and Henry felt a bit of annoyance.

"Just because your nephew is the King of Spain and the Holy Roman Emperor, does he think I have nothing else to do?" He asked, irritated. Not to mention, Charles was a good nine years younger than Henry, who was he to presume to lecture Henry?

"He advises you against signing a treaty with France, and to not heed everything Wolsey tells you because he is so biased with the French," Katherine said, as she plucked a grape into her mouth.

"And since when are you a diplomat?" Henry said, growing angrier by the moment.

"I am my father's daughter," His wife replied, with a note of pride in her voice. Henry grabbed her hand.

"You are my wife, you are not my minister, you are not my chancellor, but my wife!" He hissed, enunciating every word he spoke. Katherine snatched her hand back away from him, her eyes narrowed at him.

"Your brother would have never acted in such a fashion to me speaking of political matters," she said quietly, but her words were like little barbs that had Henry seeing red. All these years and she had never dared to bring up Arthur. And here she was throwing his dead brother in his face.

"Eat," he barked, trying to calm down lest he explode with the rage he felt. The Queen, merely glared at him before quietly finishing her meal.

Later in the evening, Henry called for Wolsey as he was trying on new cloth for the summit with the French.

"What do you think?" He asked, as he tried on a vibrant red sleeve of satin.

"It looks good," Wolsey hummed in agreement before picking up a set of pillows. "And if I may, with these set of jewels," he finished, placing them before Henry.

"Do you think Francis will have anything like these?" The King asked, and Wolsey smirked at him.

"Only if he steals them," he retorted and Henry found himself lightening up from his earlier foul mood.

"I can't wait for the summit," he declared, "It will change the world as we know it forever." He turned to Cardinal Wolsey. "You and I will be immortal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hello! So some of these scenes will seem familiar, because they are straight from the show, but I hope to make that a rare occurrence, or to add more so that it's not the tudors all over again with the bonus of Katherine just having a son. Up next will be the Field of Cloth and Gold! Fancasts so far are: Lotte Verbeek as KOA, Nick Dunning (though considering he would be in his early forties not with white hair) as Sir Thomas Boleyn, Anita Briem as María de Salinas (If Jane Seymour shows up there will be a different fancast for her) and I haven't decided yet upon Henry VIII or Wolsey. Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The field of cloth and gold begins on June 7, 1520 with Henry and Francis meeting one another and the resulting court politics.

The thunder of horse hooves, yells, and shouts echoed across the valley as the English court came into view.

"Halt!" The King shouted as he brought his horse to a rear. The rest of the court followed suit with his those closet to him halting beside him.

"Val d'Or, the valley of gold," Henry said, looking at the field. It was lush, green, and vibrant, making it a perfectly chosen place for the summit between England and France.

"What if the French don't show?" Knivert asked, the worry in his voice obvious to those around him.

"Oh, they'll show alright." Compton laughed. "They'll just be fashionably late." Laughter erupted from around them. Henry turned his gaze back across the valley and spotted the French.

"There they are," he said, determined to spot the French King. His eyes focused upon a man in blue and gold with a great hat who was at the forefront of the French court.

"I will ride down alone and speak with the King," Henry announced and his courtiers turned towards him in surprise and concern.

"What if it's a trap? What if they mean to lure you down there and kill you?" Knivert asked. Henry barely refrained from rolling his eyes. He knew Knivert spoke sense, but this was not the occasion for such worry.

"Stay!" He bellowed, before kicking his horse and riding down the hill. He saw the French King continue and eventually they met at the base of the valley before the palace of illusions.

"Cousin," Henry said, his tone polite and warm, though inwardly he was assessing the French King. Even though he was seated it was clear that Francis did reach such a height as was reported to him by Sir Thomas Boleyn. He was fair of face, with dark brown waving hair, and bright blue eyes. His only fault was that slightly large nose of his. And he was dressed impeccably and in the latest French fashions.

"Cousin," King Francis said in English, his French accent thick though pleasant enough.

"After you," Henry motioned towards the entrance of the palace.

"No, after you," Francis shot back before both monarchs burst into laughter and they both rode through the arch of the entrance together.

"How do you like my beard?" Henry asked, waving to the magnificent red gold beard he had grown for the occasion.

"It makes you look very French," Francis said, peering at him closely, before both men burst into laughter once more.

The preparations and the set up was truly a sight to behold. Colorful tents of red, gold, purple and blue dotted the grassy fields, while the main palace stood tall and magnificent. It was white and gold, and had great statues of golden lions surrounding it. There were fountains of wine of various flavors such as mulberry, strawberry, port, and many others. It was just painted canvas really, but the illusion it gave was fantastical and wonderful and Henry felt a source of pride on behalf of the English architects that had constructed this behemoth.

"Ah, the ladies are here," King Francis boomed good naturedly as the women from the English and French courts trailed into the entrance. There giggles and shouts of awe and wonderment as they took in their surroundings. Both the Queen of England and the Queen of France were at the head of the retinue, escorted by their various attendants and servants. The ladies were astride their respective horses, chatting amicably until they came into the center of the field. Both Kings strode to their wife's sides to help them dismount. Katherine swung down into Henry's arms and he placed her firmly on the ground. Francis did the same with his wife and brought her over.

The Queen of France, or Claude of France was the daughter of the previous French King, who had been late husband to his own sister, Mary, the Dowager Queen of France. She looked to be in her early twenties and was short in stature with a slightly hunched back and plump figure. Her hair was a lack luster brown that reached the middle of her back. She wore a light blue gown of damask with ermine sleeves and a severe French hood upon her head.

"Allow me to introduce my wife, Queen Claude," Francis said, and Claude dipped into a small curtsey.

"Your majesty," she said, her accenting a soft lilt, and she gave him a polite smile. Henry nodded and motioned to his own wife.

"Madame, we are well met," Henry said good-naturedly before turning to his own wife. "My wife, Queen Katherine," he introduced and Katherine stepped forward and sank into a curtsey, a regal look upon her face. Francis looked at her before sweeping into a bow and kissing her hand.

"The tales do not do you justice madam," he said, charmingly and the Queen of England laughed.

"I think that they do. Your majesty one must be careful of which tales they heed," she said, her voice slightly warmer. Henry eyed them, a flash of jealousy storming within him. Was Francis flirting with his wife? As if he didn't have a hoard of mistresses and women to tend to?

They approached the pavilion under which there was a great long table draped in cloth of silver with a gold centerpiece. Two great thrones were face south and were of equal height, indicating the seats of the King of England and France. Henry and Francis took their respective seats as the rest of their courts.

Trumpets blared once more and the herald began the announcements to the anticipation of the courts.

"Hear ye, hear ye, I, Henry, by the grace of God, King of England, Ireland, and France-" Henry cut him off with an imperious wave of his hand.

"Stop," he said turning slightly towards Francis. "I cannot be that while you are here, for I would be a liar. During this summit, I am simply Henry, King of England," he finished, addressing the respective courts. Applause erupted from the crowd, and Henry nodded towards Francis with a slight smile.

"And I am simply Francois, King of France and Burgundy." Henry smirked in response as Cardinal Wolsey approached the monarchs with a great bible.

"Now, I ask your majesties to swear to be kind, faithful, and good to one another," he said, placing the bible before them. Henry and Francis exchanged glances before placing their hands on the bible together.

"I do so swear," Henry said, solemnly.

"I swear too," Francis replied, and the trumpets blared once again and the courtiers clapped. Afterwards, the court assembled under another pavilion where a great sparring match was taking place between the French and English guards. They were fencing back and forth with great swords. Sir Thomas Boleyn watched, hoping for an English win and was not supported when the one of the guards got the best of the last French swordsman. Cheers and claps erupted from the court and Sir Thomas Boleyn, grinned pleasantly. Here was his opportunity to present both of his girls before the King of England. Surely, he would be taken with one of them?

As he watched, he happened to catch the King staring at one of his daughters, Mary to be precise. Thomas smirked and quickly made his way to his elder daughter Mary who was happily chatting with her younger sister, Anne.

"Papa!" Mary said, warmly as she spotted him. The elder of the two Boleyn girls, she was far more of a traditional beauty than Anne, with a round fair face, ocean blue eyes, and long curling golden hair. She had gotten her good looks from his wife, Elizabeth Howard, sister to the Duke of Norfolk. Anne merely smiled at him and nodded. The younger of his daughters, while not ugly, was not the traditional beauty. She had great dark, almost black eyes, tanned skin, and long dark brown hair.

"The King has noticed you Mary," Sir Thomas informed his elder daughter, who laughed and exchanged a look with Anne.

"Me?" She laughed again, nearly bursting with excitement. Thomas motioned for her to follow him. They eventually reached Thomas's desired destination: his brother in law, Thomas Howard, the Earl of Surrey, the head of the family in all but name as his elderly ailing eighty year old father was still alive.

"The King has noticed Mary," he said, as Mary dipped a shorty curtsey to her uncle. Thomas looked at his niece, a thoughtful expression upon his face.

"Well this is a good thing," he said quietly, his eyes flickering towards Mary who gave him a cheerful smile. "The question is what can we make of it? And more importantly, how do we make sure it happens so that we can make something of it?"

Boleyn nodded, eyeing his eldest child. She was certainly not the apple of his affection with her loose and immoral reputation, but perhaps she could finally serve of some use to the family.

"You will put yourself before the King, and you will keep his attention," he said, his tone brooking no room for argument.

"Indeed, for through you Mary, we may come of good fortune and deal our enemies a great deal of harm," The Earl of Surrey said, his eyes drifting towards the Cardinal. Boleyn followed his gaze towards Wolsey. Indeed with Mary's help, they would secure the future of their family and take down their enemy the Cardinal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Looks like more than one person has it out for the Cardinal. And the Boleyns and Howards are up to their usual tricks!


	4. Chapter 4

Katherine huffed angrily as she retired to her bedchambers. Her husband had challenged the French king to a wrestling match and had not only lost the fight but had lost his temper as well and had nearly jeopardized the alliance with France. While she was annoyed at her husband's moods dictating foreign policy, she couldn't help but feel a hint of malicious joy at the prospect of the French alliance suffering.

"Your majesty," María had appeared along with Maud Parr and her other ladies to help her undress for the night.

"That was quite the entertainment was it not?" The Queen of England remarked as they unlaced the back of her bodice.

"Poor, his majesty," María murmured, though Katherine could hear the amusement in her friend's voice at her husband's misfortune.

"Will the alliance fail, Madam?" Lady Parr asked, worry in her voice.

"Of course not," Katherine assured her lady in waiting. "It will continue, and I saw Sir Thomas Moore talking to Henry to soothe his ill temper." She prayed inwardly that he would be in a better mood on the morrow when the treaty was signed.

The next morning, they gathered for the signing of the Treaty of Perpetual Peace. Katherine had donned a Spanish gown of black velvet cut with gold with a low neckline with a black lace mantilla lined with gold upon her head. She sat next to Henry who stood as Wolsey took his place in the center between the two Kings.

"I ask his Majesty, the King of France to sign the treaty of perpetual peace," Wolsey intoned graciously, and King Francis stepped forward. He dipped his pen in the red ink and quickly wrote his initial before stepping back.

"And now I ask his gracious majesty, the King of England to sign the treaty universal and perpetual peace." Wolsey turned to Henry, who was stone faced and his blue eyes blazed with cold fury. Nonetheless he stepped forward and wrote his name elegantly across from Francis's. The treaty was then stamped with a seal and applause broke from the audience.

The Queen dutifully clapped along with the rest of them, watching the King who appeared to be simmering with barely checked rage. Well my husband, perhaps should not have challenged King Francis to that duel. She snapped in her head, though she kept her regal demeanor. The signing of the treaty signaled the end of the festivities and thus the court began to prepare for the journey home.

As Katherine was returning to her rooms, she happened to come across a woman, of middling age, but with a quiet sort of handsomeness to her. She was of middling height and while not fat, she had the body of a woman who had carried children. Her hair was a honey golden color and she had striking blue eyes. Katherine knew the woman at once.

"Your grace," she said coolly, offering her hand to the mother of the King of France, and the Duchess of Anjou and Angoulême: Louise of Savoy. The other woman gave her a polite smile and kissed her hand before stepping back a bit. She was dressed as if she was a Queen, in her stunning gown of black velvet embroidered with purple and golden flowers. She had airs and audacity, almost as if she was a great princess. She reminded Katherine of the formidable Margaret Beaufort.

"Your majesty, I am pleased to make your acquaintance," Louise spoke, elegantly and swiftly. "I was wondering if I might speak with you of some matter of great importance?"

The Queen of England remained stoic but gave her a nod and the two stepped into an empty chamber.

"What did you wish to speak of?" Katherine asked once Louise shut the door behind her.

"The alliance must hold," Louise of Savoy blurted out and the Queen gave her a look of scorn.

"Your grace, surely you saw my husband sign the treaty alongside your son did he not?" She quipped but not as harshly as she wanted to.

"Aye, and surely your own eyes saw that wrestling match the previous evening," The King's mother retorted. "Bad feelings hang over this alliance and Kings can undo the very things that they wrought."

"They can, your grace," Katherine agreed. "But why should this alliance remain and what do you possibly suggest to make it hold?"

"A marriage alliance," The Duchess of Anjou and Angoulême proposed, her eyes alit with ambition.

"You will not have my son," Katherine declared, her eyes narrowing at the older woman.

"Perhaps not," Louise said slowly, "but what of your daughter?"

"The King decides those matters, not I," Katherine said icily. If all went well, Mary could be the Queen of Portugal, or Spain, or even Scotland, but not France. She would be damned if such a thing happened.

"He does, but that does not mean he cannot be influenced by the woman who is his wife and the mother of his long awaited heir." Katherine granted her that acknowledgement. While things between her and her husband had cooled romantically, it didn't mean that her position was still weak. With the birth of her son, it had strengthened considerably. She prayed daily, that Edward would live a long and healthy life. Perhaps in time she could possibly give her husband a second son, but she didn't want to endure another pregnancy right now, nor did she want to go to her husband's bed either yet.

"What do you hope to gain from a marriage alliance between my daughter and presumably one of your sons?" The Queen of England questioned, her voice tone dropping slightly. "If you think to use my daughter as a piece against Spain, then you are surely mistaken, and I will tell you-"

"No, no," Louise cut her off. "It would be an alliance to the benefit of both our countries. My son's heirs could use further stability as well as the House of Tudor."

Katherine tilted her head slightly towards the woman, allowing herself to calm down somewhat. "I see." She knew there was something else to it. "I will see if the King is amendable." She had no intentions of doing so, but she was now the daughter of Ferdinand the Catholic for nothing.

Louise looked her over before smiling and sinking into a respectful curtsey. "Your majesty," she said, before turning and walking out the door. Katherine stared after her in silence before leaving the chamber as well.

It did not take long before the court was back in England and residing at Greenwich Palace. Henry's mood had been dark ever since his encounter with that bastard King Francis and the Field of Cloth of Gold. The French alliance would not do at all. His thoughts turned to the other princes of Europe. There was his sister across the border in Scotland, and his nephew James V of Scotland, who was nothing but eight years old. It would be a good alliance and would be one to unite England and Scotland, but on the other hand with the death of his father, that northern realm was unstable, and Henry did not think it suitable for his daughter to be caught up in it until things had possibly settled down. And his son, Prince Edward, deserved a much better bride than his niece, Margaret Douglas.

The King glared at the ceiling of his bedchamber but didn't move. Lady Jane Howard was next to him, curled against him in the aftermath of their bedding, but Henry paid her little heed. His thoughts turned to his nephew by marriage, Charles V of Spain and he knew then what path he intended.

"Leave," he ordered the woman lying next to him, before getting up and calling for a servant to send for Wolsey later.

"Twenty years old," The King barked towards his Lord Chancellor who remained silent as he continued. "The King of Spain and the Holy Roman Emperor with great wealth and vast dominions." He could have laughed bitterly but he didn't. "I should have never sought an alliance with France, we need to do business with Charles."

Wolsey bowed his head slightly at his words. "Yes, your majesty." He intoned, but Henry caught the disappointment in his voice. He knew Wolsey favored the French, but as far as the King was concerned, what Wolsey wanted didn't matter. He was there to serve Henry and thus England.

"You will visit him at Aachen," he commanded, glaring at the corpulent Cardinal. "Now tell us, what of Buckingham?"

Wolsey stepped closer and lowered his voice considerably. "I have heard through reports and my spies, that the Duke of Buckingham is raising an army," The Cardinal whispered, and the King grunted at his words.

"He claims that he needs it while visiting his Welsh estates where he is highly unpopular, but of course it is nothing more than a ruse and farce." Traitorous whelp. The King thought darkly. He knew then and there what end Buckingham would come to.

"Invite him to court for Christmas," Henry decided, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips. "Don't alarm him at all, neither by word or gesture." With that, he dismissed Wolsey and summoned the Duke of Suffolk. Ever since, he had dared to marry his sister against his will, Charles had been on uncertain terms with him. But time had eased Henry's temper and it helped that the Brandon's were consistently paying the fine every year he had commanded, which added to his coffers.

Charles was a tall man, not as a tall as Henry himself, but he had an impressive stature. He was big with dark brown hair and a great but well combed and neat beard and moustache. Considering he was of poor birth, he didn't carry himself like the Duke he was, but Henry allowed it nonetheless.

"Charles," The King said warmly as he clapped the older man on the shoulder. Charles grinned at him wolfishly. "Your majesty," he said charmingly, and Henry grinned back.

"Care for a game of tennis?" Henry challenged and by the lighting of Charles' eyes, he knew he had an answer.

The two men donned the appropriate clothing and took to the courts where they played against one another. The King had the upper hand and when Charles missed the ball the two walked towards the net.

"I am of the mind, to invite the King of Spain here to England," he informed the Duke who blinked at him in surprise. "Wolsey is in charge of conducting talks with him, but I think Charles will agree to an alliance, don't you?"

"He'd be a fool not to, besides he would get a chance to see his aunt again would he not?" The Duke of Suffolk suggested before they split again for another round. This time Henry missed the ball, which irritated him, but he was a good sport.

"He would get to see Katherine and she would be filled with joy to see him." As if her praises of him and her communication with him, hadn't already alerted Henry to the fact that she loved her nephew and would be pleased if he came and saw her.

"What does your majesty require?"

"If this goes well, I want you and my sister, to receive Charles on my behalf," The King informed him, and Charles smiled. "We would be honored and delighted to show the King of Spain English hospitality."

"Good," Henry said, when he caught sight of a woman that had been on his mind for some time. She was there in the audience, next to her husband of little more than four months. She wore a gown of rich brown with a square neckline of alternating pearls and yellow gemstones. She wore a gable hood, hiding away her glorious hair, but Henry knew her. Mary Boleyn nee Carey. He knew her of course when she had married one of his courtiers, Sir William Carey in February. But she had especially caught his attention in France, in her stunning French gowns that heightened her beauty and her more lighthearted manner. The King of England wanted that woman.

Shaking himself from his quick reverie, he returned to the game, pouring his distractions and emotions into beating Charles. At the side with the rest of the courtiers that had gathered, Mary quietly watched the King of England and the Duke of Suffolk play tennis. Her father had ordered her to catch the King's eye, so she had suggested to her own husband that they should watch the King's match. For what person, didn't want to be close to the King? It was fortunate that William didn't know Mary's true desires and what kind of closeness she desired with the King. As her father had said countless times, it was for the good of the family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left kudos, left a comment, or bookmarked this story! Hope you enjoy this chapter!


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